Unparalleled

by D. S. Smith

  He had been addressing them as a group up until this point in his story, changing his gaze randomly between them. Now he turned his attention to Stuart alone. “I remember it was a glorious summer’s day with clear, blue skies and a balmy breeze gently rustling the leaves on the trees. I climbed up into a huge, old oak and was perched on one of its branches with my binoculars trained on a woodpecker in another tree about ten yards away. I watched with fascination as the beautiful green bird probed a crack in the bark with its beak searching for grubs. All of a sudden, I felt a cold draught rising up from the ground below me. I looked down to see what the source of the draught was. As I watched, two small, brown birds flew toward the tree just above ground level. But before they reached it they seemingly vanished into thin air. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I leant forward to see if I could make out where they had gone. As I did so, I lost balance and fell from the branch. As far as I can remember, I never reached the ground.” He paused again, noting the look of realisation spread across Stuart’s face. He continued. “The fall seemed to go on for several minutes before I blacked out. When I awoke I was in a hospital bed, my mother sat sleeping in a chair to the side of me. I looked around the room trying to make sense of where I was and how I had gotten there. Then the door opened and in walked my father.”

  “Oh shit,” Stuart offered raising his hand to his mouth in shock.

  “You went through all of that at the age of fourteen?”

  “Yes, the months that followed were pretty rough.” The professor said in answer to Stuart’s. “Nothing was ever the same again. Seeing my father alive was confusing enough but what really confused me was no one else thought it strange. Quite the opposite in fact. Everyone thought I had lost my mind when I suggested he had died two years before. Moreover, I soon learned he was not, and never had been, a physicist. As far as everyone was concerned, I had suffered brain damage as a result of the fall. So, instead of entering university I spent my fourteenth year of life in a children’s psychiatric facility diagnosed with a paranoid disorder as they called it back then. I never gave up on the physics though and it was during my time in care I began to learn about a relatively new field, referred to as quantum theory. The more I delved into this fascinating field the more I realised it defied reality, which is exactly what I intended to do. Most of the rules governing the physics I had learned to understand went out of the window at the atomic level and anything became possible. I knew the answer to what had happened to me that day in the tree was hidden somewhere amongst the minute particles that make up everything.” He leaned back in his chair. “And here we are.”

  “But why didn’t you reveal this to us before, Professor?” Stuart asked. The professor thought for a moment before replying.

  “You know, now I have told you all I’m not really sure why I didn’t tell you earlier. I guess I just didn’t want to scare you away.”

  “I don’t think that would have been the case at all,” Stuart offered. “My motivation for agreeing to do this is for my own reasons as are yours. We both stand to lose someone very close to us if this doesn’t work. But whilst your counterpart may be receptive to the idea of the Harmoniser, how will he build it if he is not a physicist. How will he understand the instructions?”

  “This is where your assistance is required Stuart. You won’t be asking him to build the Harmoniser. You will be preparing him to trade places with me so I can build it.”

  This statement provoked much chattering and protesting from the ensemble. Everyone was talking at the same time firing questions at the professor, at Stuart and to each other. Most of the questions began with what if − What if the professor’s alternate does not want to trade places, how will Stuart get word back to them? What if the Harmoniser does not work? What if the two professors get trapped in the wrong universes? The professor held his arms aloft and shouted two words above the cacophony of noise, silencing the group.

  “Collateral damage!”

  He repeated the words quietly and calmly having regained their attention. “Collateral damage! Whatever happens to my counterpart and me during our exchange is justified by the benefits, not only to my wife, but to the whole of humanity. We cannot sit on this technology. We have to develop it because if we do not others will. This thing is way bigger than any of us and controlled by people far more powerful. If we refuse to progress this technology they will sweep us aside and find someone that will. My counterpart may not be getting much of a choice but by building a Harmoniser in his universe it will ensure others do.”

  The dispassionate way in which the professor delivered this last statement shocked the group into silence. They were used to his calm manner showing through under duress but this latest revelation of intent lacked his usual charm and felt more like a demand than a request. Sensing the unease in the group Terry took control of the situation by suggesting everyone needed time on their own to reflect on what they had learned. A lot of information had been shared and he asked they show the usual level of discretion by not discussing any of this outside of their circle.

  Stuart was the first to push his seat back and stand up to leave which in turn led everyone else to follow, but before he got to the exit the professor asked him to hang on for a moment. Only three people remained in the room. Terry had stayed behind also but his phone rang and he apologised stating he had to take the call outside. With just the two of them left, the professor asked Stuart to take a seat back at the table where he joined him on the opposite side. “I must apologise again for not revealing my past to you sooner.” He reiterated what he had said earlier that there was no real reason for this other than the timing not seeming appropriate. Then he revealed the real purpose for asking Stuart to stay behind.

  “This is possibly the biggest event in human history, Stuart, and I cannot emphasise enough how important you are to its success.”

  Stuart sensed he was being prepared for something more than he had already learned. He sat and listened to the motivational speech the professor was delivering, waiting for the point to be revealed. When it was, the gravity of what he was hearing bore down on him like a physical entity pressing him to his seat.

  Chapter 39

  Bruce sat at the hotel bar swirling ice around in what remained of a glass of expensive single malt. He caught sight of himself in a mirror lining the back of the bar. He looked tired! He felt weary from the travelling but the true cause of his fatigue was the impossible task ahead of him and his accomplice. What had started as a mission of technical espionage had now turned into international terrorism. His part had been to get Lin Lee into England undetected and that had been a success. Now he was at the mercy of her planning with no clear idea of what it would entail. He thought back to the bound folder the Director had given to them following their meeting in Beijing. The folder contained A4 copies of blueprints for an Oxford University college building along with a list of security codes, photographs of agents operating inside the campus and a site map. That was all they had to go on. One plus was Lin Lee had already been in the building so had some inside knowledge. The downside to this was because of her antics during her last visit the security was bound to be much tighter. He struggled to imagine how she was going to achieve her mission with the resources at hand. One thing was certain. There would be casualties for which he would be jointly culpable. The more he thought about this the more he feared the most likely outcome was failure and certain imprisonment if not death. He considered his options; the first was to work with Lin Lee to try to formulate a plan giving them the best opportunity for success. His second option, and the easiest short-term fix, was to bail now. The problem with the first option was the odds were stacked against them and he saw little chance of success. The problem with the second option was he would not get paid and would be pissing off the Chairman. Without money, he would not have the means to disappear from a man like him. The dilemmas raised in the first two options lead him to a third; what if he handed Lin Lee over to the Brit
ish security service. He could make a deal with them to ensure his freedom and give him the protection required from the Chairman. To achieve this, he would go through the motions of option one whilst setting up his collaboration with the Brits. First, he needed to establish contact with them and for this he had the perfect subject just a few floors up from where he sat. He had come to the hotel after Lin Lee had received a tip off that David Milton was staying there. He had already confirmed this was indeed the case. He had even established which room Milton was checked into but he did not intend to report this back to her. Instead, he would take this opportunity to get word to the British that he was willing to share information with them if they could guarantee his freedom and safety.

  He stood up from his seat at the bar informing the barman he would be back shortly. As he walked toward the hotel reception he regarded everyone with suspicious eyes. He doubted anyone knew who he was at this stage but with Milton staying in the hotel there was bound to be a security presence. At the reception desk he asked a tall, slim, brunette woman if he could have a sheet of paper and an envelope. She obliged him without question barely glancing at him throughout the exchange. There was a pot on the desk containing hotel-branded pens. He took one and began to write out his message to Milton. Having finished the note he folded it neatly and placed it into the envelope. He held the sealed envelope up to the receptionist and nodded by way of thanks. If he was being watched he wanted to make it clear what he was about to post under Milton’s door was just a note. He didn’t encounter anyone else on the way to or from Milton’s room and the note was despatched without any impedance.

  When he returned to his seat at the bar, he looked into the mirror again but this time surveying the empty seats behind him. It was just him and the barman in the room but he knew this would soon change. He decided to have some fun with the man while he waited. He raised his glass and shook it, rattling the remains of ice to get his attention. “I’ll take another one of these please, mate.” Without saying a word, the barman put down the tea towel he had been drying glasses with, took a clean glass from a shelf and dropped in three cubes of ice before raising the glass to the optics measure. “Single or double sir?” the barman asked in a thick eastern European accent. “Make it a double, and why don’t you have one with me?” The man placed the drink on the bar in front of Bruce and replied through a half smile, “Thank you, sir, but is not allowed for me to drink on duty.”

  “Yeah, understood,” Bruce replied. “I’ll tell you what,” he continued, “how about a little wager?”

  “A vager? Sorry I do not understand this.”

  “A wager, a bet. I will predict what is going to happen within the next thirty minutes in this bar and if I’m right the next drink you pour for me is on the house.”

  The barman paused for thought and Bruce could see his mood lightening. “And if you are wrong with prediction?”

  “Then I will double the generous tip I was going to give you anyway.”

  “Ok, tell me this prediction,” the barman asked, clearly enjoying the break from routine. “Alright then, but first tell me your name?”

  “Is Dominik, or just Dom.”

  “Well Dom, this is how it’s going to play out…”

  Chapter 40

  The sound of rain rattling against the panes drew David Milton to the window of his hotel room. He looked out onto the road four stories below. The darkness of night had arrived but the streets were illuminated by streetlamps and headlights from cars. Every wet surface reflected the light giving a fresh, polished look. He watched the white headlights of approaching cars grow bigger and the red taillights of the receding cars grow smaller. He thought back to something Stuart once told him when they were kids. It was a rainy night just like this one. They were sat in the back of their dad’s car, returning home after visiting an old aunty. Stuart was staring out of the car window when Dave asked him what he was looking at. Stuart replied he was watching all the new souls arriving on earth and all the old ones leaving. He asked his brother what he meant by this. Stuart told him to look out of the window at the stream of approaching cars on the opposite carriageway and imagine the white lights were the souls of new-born babies arriving on Earth. He told him to look at all of the taillights of the cars stretching out in front of them on their carriageway and imagine these were the souls of the dead departing the Earth.

  “That’s how many people are born and how many people die every day,” Stuart offered as he stared dreamily out of his window. “It’s a constant stream of life and death.”

  “But does that mean we are dead souls leaving?” Dave had asked, concern on his young face.

  “That depends on which side of the road you are looking from,” Stuart replied without turning away from the window.

  Dave didn’t understood the comment but spent the rest of the journey and many more that followed mesmerised by the coming and going of souls. It seemed pertinent he should be having this memory now. Birth and death were natural events he could comprehend, but what he had just learned in the debrief with the Home Office agents went way beyond his natural understanding of existence.

  The debrief had been held in a small conference room at the hotel. It was hosted by Agent Lawrence, the man Dave had travelled back from China with. Accompanying him was a second representative from the Home Office and, much to Dave’s surprise, Dr Catherine Carson, his brother’s psychiatrist. After introductions, the second representative, who had been introduced as Agent Mann, asked him to sign a copy of the Official Secrets Act. Dave had no problem with this but had started to get worried as to where it might be leading, especially with the presence of a psychiatrist. There were no windows in the room and it felt cluttered. Half the space was taken up by stacks of chairs. The air felt thick and stuffy due to a lack of ventilation. The only relief came from a large pedestal fan stood in one corner, swinging from side to side with a whir and click every few seconds, bathing them momentarily in an artificial breeze. They sat at the end of a long meeting table designed to seat far more than the four of them. Dave and Dr Carson were sat on one side, with the two home office representatives opposite them. Agent Lawrence asked the questions while Agent Mann typed his responses into a laptop. Connected to the laptop by USB was a small, round speaker. The debrief started when the agent pressed a button on the speaker and a tiny, red LED started to flash. Agent Lawrence pointed to it and explained what it was for. “David, Dr Carson, this unit is a microphone that will digitally record everything we discuss here today. Do you consent to this?” Dr Carson shrugged and looked toward Dave. “I have no issue with it. You?”

  “Nope, fine with me.” Dave replied also shrugging. “Thank you, then let’s begin”

  The debrief lasted for almost two hours. During the first hour Dave was asked to describe the people he had encountered in China. The agents showed him a series of photographs and asked him to point out the ones he recognised. Dave recognised most of them. He explained to the agents the roles the people in the photos had carried out. They seemed especially interested in the two suited dignitaries that had arrived to witness the calibration of ‘the machine’. They referred to them as ‘The Chairman’ and ‘The Director’. Dave informed them he had not had anything to do with the men except that the tall slim man had wished him good luck and informed him he was about to make history. Agent Mann showed him a picture of a woman, a woman who Dave immediately recognised. “That’s the evil bitch that abducted me.” Even seeing her in a photo sent shivers down his spine. “I think her name was Lin, or Lee, something like that.” He shuddered and turned away from the photo.

  “We know all about Lin Lee, David,” Agent Lawrence offered. “And you don’t need to worry about her now,” Agent Mann added, “According to our colleagues in China she was killed trying to escape from the police.” This information was welcome but it did little to allay the trauma of his encounter with her. The agents continued, explaining to him what he already knew, that his abduction was a mist
ake and it was Stuart she had intended to take. Before the men could elaborate further, Dr Carson, who had been taking notes throughout, suggested they take a comfort break to which they all agreed. During the break, she took Dave to one side. “I need to warn you David,” she advised out of earshot of the agents, “what you are about to hear in a moment will be very hard for you to believe.” She looked over to the two men who were talking to each other at the table. “I want you to keep an open mind and trust that if I feel anything being said is not true I will intervene.”

  “Ok, thank you Doctor.” Dave replied not knowing what else to say. Before anything else could be said, Agent Lawrence called them back to continue.

  What Dave learned over the next hour about the purpose of the machine in China and circumstances surrounding Stuart’s situation was beyond anything he could comprehend. On several occasions during the unbelievable revelations, he turned to gauge Dr Carson’s reaction to the incredible story the men were telling him. Her passivity throughout suggested she believed all they had said was true. The parallel universe, machines designed to open up wormholes, people disappearing and reappearing. The whole thing had started to feel a like some strange psychedelic dream, set to the rhythmic whirring and clicking of the large fan in the corner of the room.